Dr Velascos' Unexpected Baby

by Dianne Drake

  “He’s very precise. Nice man, good priest, but a taskmaster.”

  In spite of her glum mood, she laughed. “We all need some of that occasionally, don’t we? The benevolent guidance of someone with a rather firm hand in case we don’t accept that benevolence.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s done her fair share of avoiding the offered benevolence.”

  “Not avoiding it so much as trying not to find myself in a position to need it. It’s much easier not having to rely on the kindness of strangers, or even friends, for that matter. Self-sufficiency is a good thing, really.”

  “Again, spoken like someone who’s done her fair share of avoiding benevolence.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “But my offer to escort you isn’t benevolent. And neither is being your interpreter since Señora Escabar doesn’t speak English. She does, however, make the best fish stew on this side of the mountain, and I was hoping that if I showed up on her doorstep she’d take pity on me.”

  “Ulterior motives don’t become you, Doctor. But I can’t stop you from walking across the street with me, can I?” Actually, she was a little flattered. It was inevitable that she and Gabriel would bump into each other in a place this size, but in some small way she was pleased that he’d found her so quickly. Of course, ulterior motives did come into it, too. He wanted to know about her—he’d already learned on his own that she was connected to the medical team lost in the crash a couple of months before. The crash that had claimed the life of her sister—but Gabriel didn’t yet know that about her. By now he’d heard bits and pieces of why she was here and he wanted more. Everybody would. That’s how it would be, and she had to get used to that if she intended on staying. Or else she’d have to make her peace then get out of here as fast as she could. As nice as these people were…benevolent strangers…she didn’t want to be bothered by them yet. Didn’t want their pity, or their wary stares. Didn’t want anything until she knew, for sure, which way her life was headed.

  Didn’t even want Conchata Escabar’s fish stew, which, as it turned out, was wonderful. As was the conversation, most of it which she could not understand. But it was spirited, and when Gabriel wasn’t eating, he was translating. Throughout the entire time she was there, Señora Escabar fussed, filled and refilled bowls, heaped warm tortillas on plates, all of which transcended language barriers. And Gabriel did look sufficiently uncomfortable each of the fifteen or so times Señora Escabar pulled him to her ample bosom and nearly squeezed the breath out of him. It was over his sister, Bella realized as the woman squeezed, then wept. But Gabriel was gracious about it, and gracious about taking the kettle of stew with him when they finally left Señora Escabar’s house after an hour that didn’t turn out nearly as badly as Bella had anticipated.

  “She loved my sister,” Gabriel explained, as they walked across the road. “She’s having a hard time—” He stopped abruptly. “Look, I’m sorry for your loss, Arabella. I know you were part of that medical group…”

  “Yes, I was and I wasn’t,” she said, offering no more. She would have preferred keeping this relationship with Gabriel on a different level for a while longer but it had just changed. Now they were merely two people suffering from their losses, and because he did it the way it should be done, it would contrast harshly against the way it shouldn’t be done. Which, in the estimation of most, was her way. “I…I can’t talk about it, Gabriel. There’s nothing to say.” And he had his own grief to deal with. So why bother him with hers? “It was a tragedy and I, um…”

  “I understand,” he said.

  Gabriel’s voice was so quiet it sent chills up her arms. Or maybe the chills came from realizing how much she wanted him to understand. But how could he, when she didn’t even understand? She’d planned on going with Rosie, to be part of her sister’s medical mission, but at the last minute Rosie had turned her away. Rosie, the dreamer whose plan had been to go to Peru and figure out what she was going to do once she was there, and Bella, the pragmatist who needed a plan set in cement before she’d budge. They’d argued about their different approaches that day at the airport, then she’d never seen her sister again. So how could Gabriel understand, when she didn’t? “How’s Ana Maria?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  “Want to come see for yourself?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, Arabella.” Slipping a gentle hand around her waist, he led her down the street. She was sure that, for Gabriel, it was an impersonal gesture, one that meant nothing. But for her it meant so much. And, for the first time since she couldn’t remember when, a small ripple of calm washed over her. His benevolence, she decided. That’s all it was. Gabriel was a benevolent man even in the midst of his own suffering. Something to admire, and she did. She was fooling herself if she thought it was anything more than that because it was only temporary, all this kindness directed toward her. At some point he would hear the whole story, discover the kind of person she truly was, and there would be no benevolence left for her. Not from Gabriel, not even from someone like Señora Escabar.

  In the meantime, she was tired, her defenses were down, and she was enjoying her time with Gabriel. Later, when she was rested, she’d do better. She’d stay away, hide her heart again.

  For right now, though, she’d savor the strange, warm feelings seeping through her and be glad that, for the first time in weeks, she could feel anything.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I THINK she would have had her clinic closer to the landing strip,” Father Carlos told Bella. She was sitting alone in the chapel, glad for the solitude. “We were hoping, of course, that she would come to Lado De la Montaña, but it’s never wise to count on such things.”

  “Rosie always went where her heart took her. I think if she’d had a chance to know the people here, she would have stayed here.”

  “And you? Is that what you’re considering?”

  “I’m not like my sister. All she had to do was smile, and things happened around her. Good things, things people wanted to be part of. What I want doesn’t always work out, and people aren’t so drawn to me.”

  “Because you won’t let them be?” Father Carlos sat down the pew right behind Bella, and leaned forward. “You’re hard on yourself where you shouldn’t be. People react differently to tragedies and it’s not fair to think that we can all be the same, because we can’t.”

  “You said her funeral mass, Father, and I wasn’t there. On that day I was working, just like I did every other day of my life. There was no difference in that day and the next one or the one after that.”

  “But your work is a good thing. Helping people is always good, Bella.”

  But her helping was just another way to hide. “She was so devoted to setting up a clinic here. It’s all she wanted, and I want to honor her in that. But I don’t know if I can.”

  “When you find your heart, you’ll find your way.” He patted her on the shoulder, then stood. “So, what do you plan for your day? Because Señora Reyes is, as they say, great with child, and having a little struggle these past few days. I thought maybe you might go and see her, if you have time. I realise that you have yet to make a decision about working here, but I thought you might like to meet some of the people who could be your patients.”

  “I thought I’d go for a walk, but I’d be glad to see Señora Reyes first.” As it turned out, Marisol Reyes was very great with child. A month away from delivering, Bella finally determined though the various language difficulties. Her blood pressure was a little high, not alarmingly so, and her ankles were swollen, again nothing to worry about. But she was tired, her back ached, and, from what Bella could determine, the baby was pretty big. Gestational diabetes was her first thought. The only problem was, there was no way to know for sure without doing a series of tests, and Marisol Reyes was going nowhere to get those tests.

  “You have to watch your diet more closely,” she told the woman, who merely nodded and smiled. “Do you understand
me, Marisol? You have to be careful.”

  “I care,” the expectant mother said.

  Bella shook her head. “No. You have to be careful about what you eat.” She said it in English then repeated it in her best broken Spanish. To which the woman responded by nodding, which told Bella that this conversation was in need of some serious help.

  “Father Carlos said you might need some help,” Gabriel said through the front screen door.

  “I need a lot of help. I think I might have a case of gestational diabetes here, which I can’t really diagnose. But I’ve been trying to explain some of the dietary consequences to Marisol, and I don’t speak enough Spanish to get through to her. And she doesn’t understand enough English to make a difference.”

  “Big baby?” Gabriel asked, stepping inside.

  “Seems that way. Without an ultrasound…” She shook her head. “Let’s just say that she’s awfully big even for eight months along, and I don’t have any reason to suspect twins. Couldn’t hear a second heartbeat. And she’s been eating sweets nonstop since I’ve been here. BP’s a little elevated, ankles swollen—classic symptoms and no way to treat her other than keep an eye on her and work through complications that might arise.”

  “No coma más dulces, Marisol. Ellos no son buenos para su bebé. Coma alimentos frescos, las verduras, los alimentos que háran usted sano,” Gabriel said to Marisol. Then to Bella, “I told her to quit eating sweets, that they’re not good for the baby. To eat fresh foods and vegetables, and foods that are healthy.”

  Marisol put her hand on her belly, a slow frown crossing her face as the weight of Gabriel’s words sank in.

  “She understands,” Bella said, then, through Gabriel, told her to keep her feet elevated as much as she could. “She needs prenatal vitamins.”

  “No way to get them here,” Gabriel said. “It takes so long traveling to a place where those kinds of things can be found that people don’t do it very often. They don’t even go after medical help unless it’s critical.”

  Which was why Rosie had wanted to be here, Bella thought. “Maybe I’ll go to Iquitos in a day or two and see what I can find for her,” Bella commented. It was incredible what a lack of medical care meant in an area such as this, even in the little things. Rosie had talked about it, been passionate about helping in her own small way, but Bella had never truly understood. Until now. “Tell Marisol that she’s to stay on bed rest as much as she can until she delivers, and that means no taking care of the house, no cooking for her husband. I’ll talk to Father Carlos to see if there’s some way we can get her some help. Also let her know that I’ll stop by tomorrow to see her.” Small measures. There were concerns ahead—keeping her blood pressure down without medication, the delivery itself, which could be difficult due to the baby’s large size. So many things could go wrong, yet when she looked at the peacefulness on Marisol’s face, the woman was not worried. She would do what she needed to do to take care of her baby, but what would happen to her when there was no doctor there to tell her what to do, or to help her with the delivery?

  She could die, like Gabriel’s sister had. The worry on his face as he looked away from Marisol told Bella that he was thinking the very same thing. Instinctively, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for helping me with this,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I know it can’t be easy.”

  A deep sigh escaped him. “I, um…I need to get back to Ana Maria.”

  “And Marisol needs to rest.” They both said their goodbyes to Marisol, with Gabriel giving a parting instruction to call either of them if she needed help, then they left the tiny cottage together, strolling casually along the road leading to Gabriel’s house.

  “Getting involved comes with strings, Bella. The more you help the people here, the more they’ll depend on you.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  “They’re your people, Gabriel. You tell me.”

  “I suppose it depends on what you want to do with your life. If you really intend on opening that clinic here, you’ve just had your start. It’s a good thing, if you really want to stay. But be very sure, because nothing here is like what you’ve ever been used to, and the way you’ll practice medicine isn’t anything you’ve ever done before. It’s not going to be about popping into Iquitos to buy vitamins for one patient. I mean, that seems like a good thing to do, and in reality it is, but you’re going to have to separate your priorities and, in the great scheme of things, ask yourself if using up an entire day is worth those vitamins, because that’s pretty much what it’ll take.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to discourage me.”

  “Not discourage. Educate. Idealism is nice, but you’ve got to be practical.”

  Rosie had been idealistic. But she’d also been practical, and one didn’t exclude the other. “Believe me, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s being practical.” Her practicality had ended her engagement to a very nice man in San Francisco. Engaged for a year, she’d been too practical to marry him. So practical, in fact, that she’d sent James Cooper straight into the arms of a woman who’d wanted more than practicality from her relationship. “I have it down to a science.”

  “And you’re not happy that way?” he asked.

  “It’s not a matter of being happy that way. It’s just the way I am.” The way she’d always been, the only way she knew how to be. The product of a heart without passion, James had told her the day he’d broken off their engagement. He’d accused her of not allowing herself to be passionate about anything, then he’d told her she deserved passion. Theirs had been an amicable parting, and they’d worked together for another year after that as medical partners. To be honest, it hadn’t even been difficult maintaining the professional relationship after the personal one had died. To all appearances, there really had been no differences before, or after. “I’m reserved. You know, don’t wear my emotions out there for everyone to see.”

  “But you don’t smile. And your eyes are so sad most of the time. That’s the first thing I noticed about you—your sad eyes.”

  “There have been difficult circumstances. And coming here hasn’t been easy.” They were at the entrance to the church now, and she stopped. “Just so you’ll know, I am going to find a way to get those vitamins for Marisol. Maybe I can’t afford to take a whole day to do it, but there’s a way, Gabriel. I just have to figure out what it is.”

  He laughed. “I’ll just bet you will.”

  “I’m going for that walk now,” she told Father Carlos. “I had a look at Marisol, and told her she needed to do a little food adjustment. Put her on bed rest, too, so is there a way the ladies here can take care of her, at least as far as the cooking and household chores? I don’t want her being any more physically active than she has to be.”

  “The ladies love being involved. Let me see what I can do to make arrangements.”

  It seemed so simple. Ask, and it was given. Too bad things weren’t so simple back in her real life. But that life was filled with so many complications. Truth be told, today she’d gone out on her very first house call ever. Medicine didn’t accommodate those personal aspects so much any more. Doctors didn’t make house calls, for sure they didn’t arrange home care from neighbors. If a patient needed to be seen by a doctor and couldn’t come to the office, the solution was the emergency room. As far as home care went, that was arranged though the insurance company, which would hire a professional medical service to arrange any in-home kind of treatment or therapy necessary, and the paperwork was a mile long even to accomplish the smallest of tasks.

  There was something to be said for walking a block to see a patient, then asking her friends for help. It worked. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she told the priest, “and I’ll stop back in to see how Marisol is doing. You wouldn’t happen to know how I could get prenatal vitamins here, would you? Because I’d like Marisol to take them for the rest of her pregnancy if
we can make the arrangements.”

  Father Carlos frowned. “That’s one I’ll have to think about. But I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Outside the church, Bella turned toward the road leading from Lado De la Montaña farther up the mountain. She didn’t have a particular aim for this walk, except to get away for a while. She wasn’t going out looking for the wreckage of her sister’s plane crash since so many others had tried before, and failed. But she wanted to feel…connected. Connected to Rosie, connected to the others who had perished, connected to anything. And she couldn’t feel that here. She couldn’t feel anything here with so many people around, watching, trying to be kind. That’s why she had to get away. The only thing was, no place seemed far enough. She could have walked forever and that wouldn’t have been far enough.

  “Could I send someone to escort you?” Father Carlos called, chasing after her. “If you’ve never been in a jungle before this…”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’d rather be alone for a while. And I won’t wander off too far, I promise. Besides, it’s already late, and I have a lunch appointment to keep.” With the way the people of the village were taking care of her already, she’d have to be careful or she’d gain fifteen pounds in the next few days. It was like everybody here had taken her in, adopted her as one of theirs, and that went beyond the kind gesture of the meals they offered. They smiled at her, waved when she passed by.

  It was a wonderful little village with warm, genuine people. Gabriel was lucky to have a home such as this. Did he even know how lucky he was? Because it seemed to her that he looked for a means not to like this village. It was as if his whole world revolved around what he had in Chicago and Lado De la Montaña had turned into an afterthought. It was all a matter of what you wanted in your life, she decided. Obviously, Gabriel wanted the big, impersonal city, while she wanted…well, she wasn’t sure. Not any more. In fact, it had become so much easier thinking in terms of what she didn’t want that she wasn’t sure she could even start of list of things she did want. “Look, Father, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine by myself for a little while. I just need time to think.”